


Hold On, We're Going Home

by pure_vibranium_heart (orphan_account)



Series: Baby it's You and Me against the World [2]
Category: American Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sebastian Stan Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Celebrity Crush, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Fun, Humor, Imagines, Mild Language, New York City, Romantic Fluff, Sarcasm, Sassy, Seb's leather jacket, Sebastian Stan Imagines, Sebastian Stan fandom - Freeform, Secret Crush, Third Wheels, awkward third wheeling, cause hot damn, marvel imagines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pure_vibranium_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third Wheel</p><p>Noun</p><p>'The unfortunate soul who is dragged out of their cozy, New York apartment and forced to socialize with sweaty, drunken strangers in a club while the two people who pushed them into the situation are comfortably tucked away into a corner and sucking their lips off in a passionate make out session.' </p><p>That, by definition, was you, squished into a corner while your friends shared their own alcohol-tainted saliva. </p><p>Until he slinks back into your life with lips of sugar and a heart of gold. And suddenly, you're the one ditching your friends to explore New York City with Sebastian Stan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On, We're Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Great Job with The Sweetest Devotion! I was wondering if you could write a story where Seb has to third wheel with Chris & Lizzie and then he meets the reader, who is third wheeling as well! Fluff and maybe some sexy times but mostly fluff!
> 
> So this was originally posted on tumblr, here is the link: 
> 
> http://throw-her-to-thewolves.tumblr.com/post/146260981561/hold-on-were-going-home
> 
> This was a lot longer than I anticipated, however, I felt like everything was necessary so I couldn't really shorten it. This is unbeta'd, as I don't usually get my Imagines beta'd to save time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Sebastian Stan imagine, and you can make requests at anytime on my tumblr: http://throw-her-to-thewolves.tumblr.com/

 

* * *

**Third Wheel**

_Noun_

_The unfortunate soul who is dragged out of their cozy, New York apartment and forced to socialize with sweaty, drunken strangers in a club while the two people who pushed them into the situation are comfortably tucked away into a corner and sucking their lips off in a passionate make out session._

That, by definition, was you, squished into a corner while your friends shared their own alcohol-tainted saliva. You rolled your eyes and grumbled silently to yourself, smoothing the fabric of your black, asymmetrical mini dress your friend had picked out for you.

You wondered why they had even invited you out in the first place. Perhaps it was motivated by pity or duty or some sentimental reason to get you out into the world. Being a high profile actress with enough golden statutes to make even Midas jealous, you found it rare to have a day to yourself where you could relax with your fluffy white cat, Gandalf, and a bottle of wine.

But no, you could not curl up with your loyal cat and relish in the magical wonders of Harry Potter because you had been practically shoved out of your apartment and tossed into a nightclub and subjected to the torture of being the ‘third wheel.’

The cab ride to the club was a nightmare. They suffocated you with their pathetic fawning, and you were forced to listen to them exchange “No, I love YOU more,” and all the cheesy mush that would have even a grilled cheese sandwich cringe at the sound of it all.

You were happy for your best friend, she had been tagging along since primary school when you punched a boy in the face for calling her ‘fat.’ Ever since then, she had become your loving parasite, clinging to you and supporting you through the highs and lows of your fame. You loved her with every fiber in your body but right now, all you wanted was your privacy, time to settle into your skin instead of rushing back and forth. Not to be ignored and forced to watch her and her beau’s tongues clash like their tongues were holding a tournament for the goddamn Hunger Games.

You sighed loudly, but your exasperation was drowned by the thumping music that made your ribcage shudder. Swallowing, you found yourself in dyer need for a drink and shuffled toward your friend, poking her in the ribs.

“I’m going to go and get drunk.” You yelled over the music, and your best friend grinned, her lips swollen and make-up smeared. Her grin faded when her boyfriend claimed her lips again, devouring them whole as his hands began to slide up her sides.

_Okay, now is the time to escape._

* * *

_‘Fun.’_

It was the word Chris used to convince Sebastian to crawl out of his apartment and toss himself back into the ocean as a bachelor, no strings attached, rich and charming and sweet as milk and honey.  Sebastian was now discovering that that was a cunning trick used to coerce him into a private viewing of Chris and Elizabeth slow grinding against each other.

Not that he wasn’t happy for them. He was overjoyed for them. Heck, if Chris announced that he and Lizzie were waltzing down the aisle as Mr and Mrs Evans, Sebastian would be the first man in line to cheer them on. Chris and Liz had a bond, they always did, and Sebastian couldn’t be happier for them.

“Hey, honey, wanna dance?” he heard a voice purr over his shoulder, and he turned to find a 20-something-brunette with stunning blue eyes bending over to boast her unnaturally large cleavage in Seb’s face.

That was the last thing he wanted to do.

Sebastian politely declined, and watched with concerned eyes as the girl retreated on wobbly legs. Sebastian was a gentleman, afterall. As he watched her leave, Seb took a swig of his drink and checked his phone with a sigh.

This was supposed to be a ‘fun’ night.

Since he broke up with his girlfriend, all he had wanted to do was rest. Not because of her, she was Satan’s mistress, his spy sent in to sap off the small fortune Sebastian was raking in annually. He was happy to watch her shadow fade as she left his life, taking with her the impossibly tight shackles she had latched onto his wrists. No, Sebastian was certainly not upset about her.

Being in the film industry meant a lot of faces passed through his life. One face, however, one beautifully striking face, had tattooed itself onto his heart and behind his eyelids without his permission.  

_Speak of the devil_

* * *

Pushing your way through the crowd, you heard your name whispered above and you felt the eyes of strangers crawling over your frame, inducing a shivering shudder down your spine. When you finally made your way to the counter, you ordered your drink with a drawl, eyes bored and vacant as you slumped on the barstool. The club entertained a strong stench of sweat and stale perfume as cigarette smoke stained the air and danced in the shadows.

Suddenly, there was a brush of warmth against your ears as a familiar voice melted through your hair and caresses your earlobe.

“Your lips look so lonely, would they like to meet mine?”

You felt your heart thaw from exasperation as your eyes collided with his, lips cracking into a wide smile as you slowly shake your head.

“Sea-bas-tian Stan,” you drawl, the words spill slowly from your smiling lips, “You should be so lucky.”

Sebastian laughs, that adorable, heart-melting laugh that sounded like the melodies of angels singing in harmonic symphonies.  His shimmering eyes match your gaze once again, his cherry lips still drawn in a large grin. “Long time, no see.”

It _had_ been a long time since you saw Sebastian. You and Sebastian had met at the cast dinner of The Martian and embers had sparked between the both of you, a friendship blossoming from the roots of witty quips and corny pick-up lines. The last time you had seen him was during the press junket in December, and it felt so refreshing to have his dazzling blue eyes wash over you, like a gentle midnight breeze.

“You look…” Sebastian takes a step back to admire you, his wide, inky pools of blue roam over your curves as his jaw drops loosely in silent awe “…Amazing! What’s the secret recipe? The blood of virgins? Sacrificial lamb to the Devil?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you, sweetheart.” You wink and take a sip of your apple martini. You summon a playful sparkle to shimmer in your eyes as your lips press against the martini glass, taking a long, languid sip. “Besides, I’d like to watch you beg for it.”

You watch as Sebastian’s tongue darts out to swipe his bottom lip with a chuckle that rumbles in his ribcage.

“You’re smooth.”

“Smooth as the devil, they say.” You boast, before changing the subject. “So, what brings you to this part of town, partner?”

Sebastian’s face punches into a quick grimace before he nods his head to the left. “My wonderful friends.”

On the other end of his nod, you find none other than Chris Evans and Elizabeth Olsen dirty dancing on the dance floor, totally intoxicated by the presence of the other.

“Looks like they like to get up close and personal.” You surmise

Sebastian shakes his head in agreement. “Yeah. And that leaves me as the third wheel.”

You let out a harsh laugh. “Gosh, I feel you on a spiritual level right now.” You say as you toss your head toward the pashing twsome that accompanied you to the club. Your best friend is now straddling her boyfriend and is dry humping against his clothed crotch.

There is a beat of silence as you both watch the progression of your friend’s sexual activity, before you draw the curtain on the live porno film before your eyes when you think you hear Sebastian mutter something under his breath.

“What did you say?” You yell over the music and Sebastian looks at you with slight reluctance, as though something was weighing on the tip of his tongue but the words were too heavy to let slip from his lips.

“It’s kinda loud in here.” He says instead, and some part of you knows that is not what he said. Before you can dwell on it, though, Sebastian disperses your thoughts with his touch when his fingers curl around your wrist and weigh against your thumping pulse. You look at him in surprise but he offers no explanation, rather, he pulls you through the crowds of loitering people and toward the glowing exit sign.

The heavy base of the music thumps against the walls of the club as you tumble through the exit door and into the streets. You shudder against the chill of the midnight air that prickles your exposed skin and you lean against Sebastian for warmth.

“You cold?” he asks with raised eyebrows, and you nod sheepishly.

“Armani doesn’t cater for the cold, unfortunately.” You say as Sebastian slips out of his black leather jacket.

The cold is melted from your body when the warmth of his jacket wraps around your shoulders and hugs your shivering body. Sebastian’s cologne caresses your nostrils and teases your growling desire and you suddenly have the urge to steal his leather jacket from him forever.

It was a shame, watching him slide out of that jacket. Leather looked too damn good on him, it did something to your ovaries that made you swear to yourself when you had first seen him. Sebastian was too handsome for his own good, with that sharp jawline and perfect smile. And those eyes, those steel blue eyes that stare straight into your soul. You feel something coil in your groin, something hungry and hot, and it seeps into your panties because all you can think about is those damn eyes, those ones that have haunted your dreams since The Martian.

_Fuck him._

* * *

After strolling the streets of New York, the two of you decided to hit up a pizza parlor as the clock struck 12. But, unlike the fairytale, you did not have to rush into hiding, or leave your glass slipper on a step. And your prince, he was staying right here. He was before your very eyes, chewing languidly on a slice of pepperoni pizza and telling some elaborate story about how he used to race Chris and Anthony in the golf carts around set.

After you finished your pizza’s, you both took pictures with the staff, who were all just happy to have served Sebastian Stan and yourself, and then filed out of the parlor carting two bags full of desserts.

You and Sebastian then strolled the streets of New York, painting the city in gold with your shared laughter and reminiscing. You felt a protective bubble take shape around the two of you, like a haze of tranquility descended upon both of you, pulling you closer together like a thread that pulsed between you both.

That feeling soon dissipated and you were brought back to reality with the pop and flash of a camera.

You stopped, looking in the direction of where it came from and found a hidden pap lurking in the shadows, grinning to himself about the win he had just scored, and a feeling of insecurity rushed over you, like icy cold water flooding over a comfortable warmth that you had just indulged in.

“Shit,” you muttered and Sebastian caught your drift, staring in the direction of the pap. The stranger scurried away with his stolen goods, leaving you both in an uncomfortable situation.

After a short silence, occupied by the constant stares of the strangers who filled the streets, Sebastian took your hand and called for a taxi.

“Wh-“

“I have an idea.” Sebastian smiled, pulling you into the cab and ordering you to cover your eyes.

* * *

You had never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

The wind hissed and pierced your skin in sporadic whips, angrily howling in your ears. You felt the cold brushing against your spine and sending tendrils of shivers through your body as you stood wide eyed. But you ignored it all as your eyes took it all in.

The city was awake with an ethereal beauty, as though the hand of God had scattered amber diamonds over the urban landscape, glowing with a luminescence like yellow embers in the aftermath of a wildfire. The distant worries about the paparazzi were dismissed from your mind as you gawked at the view from the Empire State building, enthralled by the beauty as every insecurity was drained from your mind.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sebastian said into your ear as he stood behind you, and you laughed.

“This was your idea?” you marveled, finally meeting his eye, “Fucking genius.”

“Well, you said it sweetie,” a cocky smirk hung off his lips and you punched his shoulder, shaking your head as you smiled.

“All these years I’ve spent going back and forth from New York City, and I’ve never had the opportunity to visit the Empire State building at 1am.” You confessed, your eyes wandering across the horizon, almost ashamed.

Sebastian smiled fondly at you, watching you for a moment before he added with a gentle voice.

“Well, now you can tick that off your bucket list.”

“Yeah,” you mused, “And I got to share this moment with you.”

There was a silence that filled the gap between you both, one filled with a longing gaze where you found yourself melting further into his warmth, into the radiance he exbitied with those astonishing blue eyes. That bubble, that comfort zone returned to embrace you whole and you found yourself enjoying your desserts on the Empire State building, casually flirting and laughing with Sebastian Stan.

After a moment of laughter, you decided to address the issue that had been following you like a gloomy rain cloud ever since you heard of it from your best friend.

“So, you and Delilah…”

“…Have broken up. For the greater good, you know how it is.” He shrugs, nonchalantly. Something you don’t recognize glistens in his deep blue eyes. “Guess some things aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, though your heart feels as though it is frolicking through a field of daisies.

“Don’t be.” He smiles, “Besides, I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

“Well,” you grin, trying to mask your hidden crush that you’ve kept buried since you met him, “I feel sorry for the poor gal.”

“Admittedly, so do I.” He chuckles and you both erupt into laughter. Though secretly, you wish it was you.

When the laughter fades, and a small smile lingers on both of your lips, you find yourself being drawn in by his presence, magnetized by a loving gaze that engulfs the both of you and captures you in a state of rapture. You realize how close you are to him, that if you leaned forward just so, you could seize his lips with your own. Something bold and impatient commandeers your logic and you find yourself doing just that, leaning into him to press a chaste and tender kiss on those cherry lips that you’ve been eyeing all night. And oh.

_Oh._

He tastes like tiramisu and everything that is gentle and sweet. He tastes like home. Like the ocean, like a black, starry night. Like a midnight, summer breeze, like the first snowfall. He tastes holy and divine. He tastes like sin.

_And oh._

You can’t get enough of him.

You’re brave now, you feel the courage in your blood. So you grip his shirt and pull him closer into you because you need more of him like you need oxygen in your lungs. You need him.

You can feel the desire burning beneath his skin and you know he wants you too. You welcome the harshness of his grip on your hips when he pulls you into him, your body against his own as he kisses away your doubts and insecurities beneath the light of a thousand stars. Lightening crashes in your mouths when you let out a desperate moan, a plea for more.

When he breaks away, you suddenly want to devour his lips again, and you watch his swollen lips curve into a small smile when he gives you a cautious look.

“Are you sure about this, (Y/N)”

It makes your heart leap when he asks you, like the wings of a bird trapped inside your ribcage. For so long, you’ve had to suffer with selfish fools who take what they want without permission and it had grated your skin, it hurt in the centre of your heart and throbbed inside your bones. But here is this man, pure and genuine, asking for consent to kiss you. To dance with your hearts desire and release the longing that you had denied for so long. You would have to be dead or insane to say no.

“Fuck yes, Sebastian, I’ve been dreaming of this since the minute I met you” you confess, a little out of breath.

The rest is just a blur. A surreal blur of love and lust as your lips mould and slide together.

When you arrive to your apartment, you practically stumble through the door before Sebastian slams you against the wall, a little harder than he intended, and you let out a surprised gasp. You learn that you love Sebastian rough and you invite it when you wrap your legs around his waist and grip him tight, pulling him into you.

And wow _._

_Wow._

This was definitely not what you were expecting when you left this place with a grumble on your lips.

Sebastian crashes his lips against yours again and you kiss, nip, suckle, taste and explore. His jacket slides off. Your dress is almost torn off you and discarded on the ground. A lacy bra flies through the air and lands on a lamp. Your panties are now lace rags, splintered in half with brute strength.

You hardly find it fair that you’re the only one naked but that thought is drowned when Sebastian sinks two fingers inside your hungry cunt.

“Fuck” you sigh and Sebastian watches you through hooded eyes.

“You’re so wet baby,” he growls inside your ear.

“Well, that’s your fault.” You claim and he smirks when you squirm, his fingers curling inside of you. His digits move in a fast pattern until you’re clinging to the edge of your orgasm, almost ready to fall until…

Sebastian withdraws, snapping you out of the euphoria he had built up in your veins.

“What the f-” you’re interrupted by the sound of his zipper, then fabric, and than his cock, hard and almost purple with yearning.

Sebastian slides into you inch by inch, causing your toes to curl and your eyes screw shut. No one has ever filled you so perfectly, and you could come right now I this moment as he sinks further into you until he’s buried to the hilt.

You pick up a fast, rough pace as he hammers into you, a sheen of sweat covering your bodies as you feel yourself peaking. Every part of you is on edge, every sense tuned into the highest of frequencies until you rise, only to fall so helplessly into your orgasm.

Waves of pure bliss crash against your limp body as your release washes over you and you cry out, his name spilling from your lips. Your orgasm only Spurs him into his own orgasm and he stills, pulsing and writhing and trembling and then… Silence.

Heavy pants filling the air as you feel yourself glow with a warm luminescence.

Sebastian is the first one to speak when he says, In a half joking, half serious tone.

“That’s gotta be the best third wheeling that I’ve ever done.”

To which you respond with a smile.

“And the last.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and like I said, feel free to ask me for requests here or (preferably) on my tumblr: http://throw-her-to-thewolves.tumblr.com/


End file.
